Viola
by Wannabewriter4
Summary: This story follows a 14 year old Candor girl named Viola who loves adventure and excitement, but would rather do... Well anything besides having to face her choosing ceremony, but when that day arrives will Viola know what to do, or will she be left wondering "Where do I belong?"
1. Chapter 1

**A:N: **Hey, so this is my second fan fiction, my first one was called 'Rising Anew" but I decided to scrap it and start again, this time with a completely different idea, set of characters and writing style, I hope you guys enjoy it, but first there are somethings you need to know. First off I'm not sure whether or not this story is going to have any of the OC's from Divergent (maybe a cameo of Tris or Four), but let me know if you want to see them or anybody else. Also in this story, although the factions, what they stand for and wear and stuff like that is going to be the same, I'm going to incorporate some of my own ideas when I describe the Divergent world and the way it runs. And lastly, would you guys rather I do my author notes before or after the story? Let me know by reviewing or PMing me, and tell me what you think of the story and if you have any ideas on were it should go, I want to hear what you guys have to say! Happy Reading!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Divergent trilogy. All rights go to Veronica Roth.

* * *

It was a beautiful day. The kind of day that makes you think about the world, and what it means to be alive and all the good things that happen every day. It was the kind of day that caused a tiny smile to creep onto the baby's usually frowning lips and make her laugh, a small tinkle of a laugh, like bells on a sleigh. The sky was a crisp clear blue and the sun was shining down making the soft earth warm and moist and the flowers bloom tall and proud, almost as if they were about to sing a sweet song. The water was sparkling and hot and as clear as fresh glass and the sandy, itchy and coarse against the children's feet was oddly soft that wondrous day. Music could be heard from far away, floating through the green hills and bouncing through the wind, it made everybody happy to hear the deep voices of the singers and the hearty chug of the drums. It was the kind of day that made the fruit taste sweeter and the bread softer, that made the white and black pebbles that covered the streets shiny like marbles and lit the other wise dull and boring life of Viola Yorke with the promise of adventure.

"I can just feel it," she said to her older sister Ramona who held the teetering baby's other hand as they led her down to the river bank, careful not to step on any fallen branches or hard stones which would hurt the baby's soft tender feet.

"You always just feel it," groaned Ramona flicking her long dark hair off her shoulder and glaring at her younger sister, who she knew was once again just looking for trouble and would end up dragging her down with her when she fell.

"This time it's different," Viola insisted, side stepping a knarled tree root, and it was. The way the sun skipped along the water and made the dusty dirt path look clear and fresh, it was like a soft and tender kiss from an angel coming down to bless them with peace and, Viola hoped, a wonderful adventure.

"You always say that too," Ramona reminded her as they finally eased down onto the sand by the water. She picked the pudgy baby up into her arms and settled the baby down onto her lap. "Aren't you just the cutest little thing," she cooed stroking the baby's soft tender head with the back of her hand. "Yes you are."

"Ugh!" Viola groaned. "Get a room you too." Ramona just rolled her eyes and went back to playing with the baby, who's chubby little fist was gripping her index finger. Viola let out a long sigh and began to wander down away from her sister and toward the edge of the thick woods, which were strictly off limits to everyone, except, Viola had noticed on more then a few occasions, the government workers who came and went in a big blue truck carrying bulky equipment and wearing ridiculous overalls. She would've given anything to have gone inside with them to explore, for that was what she longed to do once she had become old enough to live on her own, become the greatest explorer ever to walk the earth. Viola would travel near and far, past the fence and the deep woods and out into the unknown, she would unravel all of the mysteries the world had to offer, like a kitten with a ball of string, she would continue until nothing else remand but some frayed edges.

"I'll be unstoppable," she whispered to herself as she bent down to pick up a twisted stick that lay down at her feet. She slashed at the water, sending ripples across it's smooth, sun streaked surface. Down below Viola could see colourful fish swimming back and forth, frightened by the stick. "It's okay little fish," she said, "I won't hurt you." Then she reached down into the cool water and moved her hand back and forth slowly, beckoning the fish towards her. A small curious little fish swam up to her, his bright orange scales brushing the smooth skin of her hand. "Your slimy," Viola said with a chuckle. She stayed there like that, as the fish moved in time with her hand swimming lazily back and forth.

"Viola!" Ramona screeched. Viola jumped, frightened, and the fish swam away.

"Bye."

"Don't stick your hands in the river!" Ramona snapped. Viola turned to face her angry sister, _she's so bossy_ she thought as she reluctantly pulled her hand out of the cool water and trudged back down to her sister's side. _It wasn't like I was hurting anyone. She's no fun._ When they were younger Ramona used to make up all the games, ordering Viola around, making her be the baby when they played house and the maid when they played Princess. "But I want to be the princess for once!" Viola would whine as she crawled around on her hands and knees along the hard wood floor, a dusty rag in one hand and a spray bottle filled with water in the other as Ramona told her to wash, the already spotless floor.

"I'm the oldest so I get to be the princess!" Ramona would say as she stood on the make shift throne she'd forced Viola to construct out of toilet paper rolls and a cardboard box.

"Aw!" Viola would groan as she continued to wipe at the dark wood, her arms and knees aching after hours of cleaning. Then, when her sister wasn't paying attention she would stop for a second, and take a peek at the array of sparkly black and white dresses her sister had lined up along the walls, "I'll be the princess one day," she promised herself, "I'll get to wear those dresses when she grows out of them." But Viola grew quickly, faster then her slender sister, and never got a chance to wear the pretty dresses. Instead she was shoved into a pair of hand me down jeans from her cousin Billy and an oversized t-shirt that her mother would have bought on sale at the market. "It's pointless to buy you new things," her mother would say, "when you're just going to get them dirty anyways." Viola protested, saying she would be extra careful, but even she new that that was a lie, so she stopped begging and just settled with her black and white hand-me-downs and dollar ninety t-shirts and stopped complaining and whining about sparkly dresses and other fancy things.

"Viola!" Ramona shouted, "are you even paying attention?"

Viola shook her head, coming back to reality, "What" she asked, and then she saw the problem. The baby was now squirming in her sister's arms and crying.

"I asked you to pass me the diaper bag." Ramona said pointing at the black diaper bag she had set down only a few feet away.

"Couldn't you have gotten it?" Viola asked, as she handed Ramona the bag, it rattled as she passed it to her sister, the baby's milk sloshing around in it's plastic bottle.

"My hands are full." Ramona protested, snatching the bag from Viola and pulling out a starch white diaper with small black horses and bears drawn around the edges.

Viola sat down next to her sister and watched as she pulled the baby's dress up over her head and began to change her. She did it methodically, as if it was a task that required little effort. _She might be bossy, but she's going to be a great mother,_ Viola thought as her sister wrapped the diaper in a trash bag and shoved it back into the diaper bag. Ramona loved baby's, which came as a surprise to Viola who could never remember Ramona ever treating her with such tenderness, but seeing the carrying, motherly way with which Ramona held this baby now, close to her chest, one hand supporting it's bum, the other placed lightly against it's head, it was undeniable. Viola only saw babies as anchors, holding people in place like ships out at sea. She could never go off on adventures when she had a baby to look after.

"There," Ramona said setting the baby down on the soft grass, "all done." The baby looked up at her, it's big brown eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. It cooed.

"Aw," Viola said, they were cute though.

"She's adorable right?" Ramona said, more as a statement then as a question. The way she talked about the baby, so proud, you would think she was her's.

"Are you planning on adopting her?" Viola asked, lightly cuffing her sister on the shoulder.

"I wish." Ramona sighed. They watched the baby for a while as it crawled along on the grass, tipping slightly to the right. Occasionally she would stuff a hand full of grass or mud into her small pink mouth and Ramona would immediately leap to her feet and scoop it out, careful not to scratch the baby with her fingernails as she did so. After a while Ramona asked, "You hungry?"

Viola said yes, she was starving. She watched with hungry eyes as her sister opened the diaper bag and reached inside. Ramona pulled out some peanut butter sandwiches cut into triangles and a pitcher of pink lemonade Viola's favorite drink.

"It seemed like the kind of day for this drink," Ramona said as if reading her sister's mind. Viola smiled and began to pour the sticky sweet liquid into plastic cups. Ramona was right, this day, with its perfect cloudless sky and the dappled sunlight falling through the overhead tree branches, was made for pink lemonade.

"Get out the plates please, I'll grab the baby." Ramona said standing up, her legs tingling with pins and needles as she walked towards the infant who was lazily rolling about on the slightly damp grass.

As her sister tottled back with the baby, Viola grabbed the plates and napkins from the black bag and set them down side by side, then she removed a white bottle filled with milk sloshing back and forth. Ramona settled back down with the baby cradled in her arms. "Pass the bottle."

Viola handed the bottle to Ramona and dug into one of the sandwiches. "Mmm," she said.

"Mm," Ramona agreed as she bite into a sandwich of her own, the baby in her lap happily sucking on the teat of the bottle a soft smile upon her tiny lips. Both girls agreed that their mother made the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich they'd ever tasted. It was the perfect combination of fluffy bread, crunchy peanut butter and sweet and sour jam. The girls sat there in silence, Ramona holding the baby in her arms, slowly rocking her back and forth, under the clear, sunny sky, chewing their sandwiches.

"So," Ramona said, not sure what to say, to her younger sister. Sure they were close as children, at least she had thought so, but now she was finding it hard to come with something to talk about. They didn't share any of the same interests, Viola enjoyed exploring and reading, and she was impulsive the opposite of Ramona, studious, organized, and typical, like the rising and falling of the sun. The only thing they had in common now was their thick dark hair, which Ramona wore long and often tied back in a tight ponytail unless she was feeling unusually relaxed and Viola had chosen to chop it off at the edge of her ears and tucked it behind her ears.

"What?" asked Viola, pink lemonade dribbled down her chin.

"Nothing," Ramona said, turning towards the baby who had begun to cry, pushing the bottle away. "What's wrong sweetie," she cooed. She took the bottle from the baby's tiny fists and set it back down in the bag. "Are you full?" The baby stopped crying and gurgled happily. Ramona sat the baby down and it flopped forward, and smiled, the girls laughed. Then, as the baby had begun to crawl away a big blue truck zoomed across the dirt road and skidded to a stop, a mere few feet away from their picnic spot. Ramona yelped, grabbed the baby and shielded her delicate face from the dust.

"What's that?" Viola asked, as she scooped up the pitcher and plates and shoved them hastily into the diaper bag.

"I don't know," Ramona squealed as she rocked the baby who had begun to cry again, frightened by the screeching tires of the truck.

Two men, who wore goofy, oversized overalls and big black goggles stepped out of the blue truck and walked toward the girls, who sat paralyzed, even the baby had gone quiet and the music had stopped, now the once peaceful, calm, still of the day was uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?" the first man asked, he was carrying a heavy briefcase covered in buckles and straps.

Viola looked to Ramona, waiting for her to answer, as the older sister Viola expected her to answer the man, but she was frozen in place, cradling the baby.

"Why do you care?" Viola asked, slowly standing to face the man who's thick nose and chin made his face look hard and boulder like.

"Your not allowed to be here," the other man said, appearing beside his partner carrying a shovel and towel. He had a shock of bright red hair.

"Who says?" Viola asked, she placed her hands on her hips. Viola could often become hot headed and was very stubborn unlike her sister who, though bossy, respected authority and never spoke back to anybody older then herself.

"Were with the government young lady," the first man with the rock solid face said, his face was inches from Viola's now and his breath smelled like cabbage and felt hot on Viola's face, "this," he gestured with his arms, the brief case swinging around, "is governement property, so pack up your happy little picnic and get out of here."

"Well-" Viola began but was cut off by Ramona who appeared by her side, the packed diaper bag slung across her shoulder and the baby squirming in her arms.

"I'm very sorry sir," she said, "we'll get out of your way," she grabbed her sister's wrist roughly and pulled her along, around the truck and up the path. Ramona often worried about her sister. "Her stubborness will get her into trouble one day," Ramona had often said to their mother when Viola was not around.

But their mother never listened. "Nonsense," she would say, "your sister is allowed to express her opinions, honesty is important."

"There is a fine line between honesty and idiocy," Ramona would reply, "and she dances with it."

"Why did you do that?" Viola asked, yanking her arm out of her sister's grip as they continued to walk up the path.

"They told us to leave, so we are." Ramona couldn't understand why her sister just couldn't accept that sometimes you had to listen to what others told you to do.

"We were there first."

"They were from the government Viola," Ramona sighed, "let it go."

Viola, who knew her sister was right but would never admit it, rolled her eyes and ran ahead kicking angrily at the stones and twigs that blocked her path.

"Careful," Ramona warned her. _Ugh!_ Viola thought, _why can't she just leave me alone? I can take care of myself._ She kicked at a pile of leaves sending them flying through the air, enveloping her in a crisp, green tornado. Viola frowned, the fallen leaves only reminded her of the inevitable arrival of the school year. That year she was in the second level school, a stubby building at the heart of the city, swarmed by the smaller first level school, which was split up into five separate classrooms. Unlike Ramona, Viola was not looking forward to returning, because that meant the end of long summer nights spent outside on the front porch swinging on the hammock and reading underneath the dim light of the moon, the end of ice cream and swimming in the pond by her house, and the end of chasing there Siberian husky, Momo around the yard, spraying her with the hose. It also meant that Viola was one year closer to her choosing ceremony, but she tried not to think about that, instead she busied herself with the difficult task of clinging onto the end of the stickiest summer she'd ever experienced, like a child who desperately clings to her father's leg.

"Look out!" Ramona screamed, snapping Viola back to attention. She was standing at the edge of the road now, cars whipped past her at break neck speed. Viola had nearly stepped out into the traffic. "Pay attention to what your doing Viola." Ramona chastised her, coming to stand beside her, the baby was now peacefully asleep in her arms, it's tiny nose wrinkled.

"I was." Viola insisted.

"Don't lie to me," Ramona said, "just pay more attention to what you're doing next time. God it's like I have to look after two babies."

"Boohoo." Viola said. She felt embarrassed. She hated it when she messed up in front of her sister, it made her feel small and insignificant. Viola stayed by her sister's side the rest of the way home.

* * *

As they walked through the heavy, black front door and into the kitchen, their mother, who was standing at the sink surrounded by bubbles, greeted them.

"Did you girls have a nice time?" their mother asked.

"Wonderful!" said Ramona, after giving Viola a don't-tell-her-about-what-happened-look. _I wasn't going to, I'm not an idiot_ Viola thought, but she was surprised that her sister hadn't wanted her to talk about the men in their big blue truck. She never wanted to hide anything from their parents before, unlike Viola who had been in trouble many times for lying, it would have gone against their factions beliefs to keep a secret. _But_ Viola thought, _if they don't ask us about it, we can't lie about it._ "The baby was adorable." Ramona continued as she walked towards the kitchen table and sat herself down by a stack of mail, which she flipped through.

"And what about you Viola?" Mrs Yorke turned to her youngest daughter and asked, "have any good adventures?" Viola chuckled and grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit that sat out on the big stone island, the sunlight shining through the window bounced off it's white marble and cast slices of rainbow through out the room. Lying was easy for Viola, she'd never found it difficult to hide anything from her parents and she'd almost never felt guilty about it.

"No not today," she said plopping herself down across from her sister at the little four person table.

Mrs Yorke smiled at the site of her two daughters sitting at the table together, bathed in sunlight. _I'm going to miss this_, she thought before she turned back to the stack of dishes.

"Oh my gosh!" Ramona shouted, startling her mother and sister. "Oh my goodness!"

Viola rolled her eyes, Ramona never cussed, even when she got excited. "What is it?"

"I got in!" her sister squealed, an envelope clutched tightly in her right hand, a letter in her left.

"In to what?" Viola asked.

"You got in?" their mother asked, "Congratulations!"

"In to what?" Viola tried again.

"I can't believe it!" Ramona said, as their mother walked over to give her a hug.

"In to what?!"

"I kind of hoped you wouldn't though." Mrs Yorke continued, "I don't want you to leave."

"Well thank you for being honest with me." Ramona said, the smile never leaving her freckled face. This was a typical Candor response to good news, and Ramona had known just what to say.

"What did you get in to?" Viola screamed tired of being ignored.

"Viola! Don't raise your voice like that, it hurts my ears." Mrs Yorke chastised.

"Sorry," Viola said, "But what did you get in to?" She hadn't known her sister had applied for anything.

"The Erudite special exchange program!" her sister replied as she danced around the room.

"What's that?"

"It's a special program for teenagers who are on the cusp of their choosing ceremony and wish to transfer to Erudite and receive, for their final year of schooling a type of education which is particular to their learning capabilities and preferences." Ramona said her eyes a glow with happiness.

"Why would you do that?" Viola asked, sure she'd always known her sister would leave her someday, but she had never imagined she'd want to transfer early and miss their last year together. She was hurt and she intended to tell her sister so.

"Because I want to transfer stupid, I just explained it to you." Ramona said.

"I'm upset," Viola said, sounding a bit, she thought, like a whiny child in a department store.

"Well you shouldn't be." Ramona said, she hadn't told Viola because she knew she would have tried to stop her from leaving, maybe she was a better liar then everyone thought. "It's my life, I can do what I want."

"No you can't, you have to think about everybody before you make a decision like that."

"If you haven't realized it already Viola, we're not Abnegation, I don't need to think like them and throw my life away so you can be happy. I mean you didn't expect me to stay here did you?"

"What is so awful about our faction?" Viola asked.

"Nothing's wrong with it, I just don't want to stay here my whole life. Just because I never show it doesn't mean I don't have dreams too. I want to take adventures just like you Viola." Ramona glared at her younger sister, her deep brown eyes filled with anger and sadness. Everyone expected Ramona to do the right thing and be responsible but she was sick of it. She couldn't wait to leave and start again, make a new reputation for herself.

Viola, on the other hand, was baffled, she had never thought her sister wanted to do anything exciting with her life. "I'm sorry," she said her voice catching, "but I don't support this." With that Viola ran up the stairs and into the girls' shared bedroom, slamming and locking the door. She slumped down on the other side of the door. "How could she want to leave me?" Viola asked the empty room, and then she began to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey guys, I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I've posted anything, but I've just been stuck, I don't know how to continue or end this chapter, and it's killing me! So, I've decided to post what I have so far and get your guys opinion. If you have any ideas about where the story should go and/or how I can finish this chapter, please review or PM me and let me know. You'd be doing me a huge favour!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Divergent trilogy. All rights go to Veronica Roth.

* * *

The following morning the girls were in their room, Viola lying horizontal on the top bunk, her legs hanging down, casting shadows on the white walls, and Ramona sitting at her desk, flipping through a dog-eared photo album. She turned the crinkly pages and saw two small photos tucked between the plastic side by side. Ramona smiled. The first picture was of the sisters, stuffing their faces with cake, a crooked party hat sat on Viola's head and her short dark hair was covered in white frosting. Ramona, whose cheeks were stained with crumbs was grinning broadly one arm wrapped around her younger sister and the other hand clutching a piece of cake. It had been her sixth birthday party, Viola had been only four back then, and Ramona remembered loving everything about that place, the plastic tube slides that smelled like sweat, the colourful ball pit where if you dug deep enough you could uncover a dirty Band-Aid and the padded play area lit by dizzying fluorescent lights. She also remembered having a great time at her birthday party, until she had decided to go _up_ the slide and got knocked over by Sawyer, a chubby boy in her year who's nose never failed to be a gushing water fountain of snot. She'd bawled like a baby as both her and Sawyer came crashing down the slide and landed in a heap at the bottom. When she'd told her mother about it though, Mrs. Yorke had made her apologize saying, "It was your fault Ramona you must take responsibility for your actions." She had been as angry as a six year could be at a play place surrounded by toys and screaming children, but as soon as she'd apologized to Sawyer, a quick, curt "Sorry," she'd forgotten the whole thing had ever happened and had went right back to playing.

"Do you remember this?" Ramona turned around in her chair, holding the picture delicately in her hands.

"No." Viola said, not even bothering to lift her head. Ramona sighed and went back to looking at the album. Viola was still mad at her for wanting to leave and Ramona knew she had a right to be angry, but she was acting so childish, refusing to speak to her, and when she did it was usually only with a one word answer.

"I have to go you know." Ramona said.

"No. You don't." Viola replied.

"Well maybe I don't have to but I'm going, and this could be the last time you ever see me." Ramona reminded her.

Viola faltered for a second, realizing her sister was right these could be their last minutes together and she wasting them. She immediately regretted the way she'd been acting and opened her mouth to apologize. "…"

But was cut off by Ramona who had pushed back her chair, the photo albums held tightly in her arms, she turned for the door. "You're being so immature." Then Ramona left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Viola closed her mouth. _Forget Ramona,_ she thought, _she could be leaving right now for all I care, when she's gone there'll be nobody left to boss me around._ But the truth was, she did care, a lot. Though her sister could be obnoxious and self-righteous at times Viola needed her to help balance her out. When Viola was six and had come up with the idea of jumping off the roof onto the trampoline, who had stopped her, Ramona. "You'll break your leg idiot," she'd hissed, as she watched from her lawn chair, fanning her self with a paper fan, folded like an accordion, as Viola lugged the trampoline around to the west side of the house which faced the city. Viola had told her to shut up and had continued to drag the trampoline through the grass, it wasn't until she was up on the roof, a white towel tied around her neck like a cape did she realize that Ramona was right. And she had done the same thing when Viola had tried to run away from home when she was ten. "I'm going to live with the Amity," she had said, she'd packed a small black duffle bag with her favorite stuffed animal, a fluffy bunny, a bag of chips and a spare t-shirt and shorts. Their parents had just laughed and told her to go right on ahead, it was Ramona who'd stopped her. "You all hate me!" Viola had cried stomping her small, sneaker clad foot, "No one loves me."

"I love you," Ramona had said, then she'd given Viola a hug, took the bag from her and they both went upstairs to unpack it. Viola needed Ramona, and what really hurt her was the idea that maybe Ramona didn't need her back.

"Snap out if" Viola said to herself, "no more being sad." She sat up then jumped down, landing on the wooden floor with a loud thump. "You're going to go outside, and your going to stop being sad." And that's exactly what she did, cramming her feet into her tattered running shoes Viola slipped out the door without saying a word to anybody. Outside the sky was grey and the wind was blowing hard and strong against the shingled houses, who's tall windows rattled like chattering teeth. Viola walked past the row of neatly arranged houses, each one a fair distance from the next, and lined with small gardens filled with black and white flowers and covered in lawn furniture or odd little garden knick knacks, down the street she marched with no particular destination in mind. She was upset, angry with her sister for wanting to leave and her mother and father for taking Ramona's side. It had been just the same way when the two girls had been younger, Ramona and Viola would get into a silly argument, usually over who got the last slice of cake or who got to beat the eggs when Mrs. Yorke made pancakes, and even though Viola begged and pleaded, their parents always took Ramona's side. "Viola stop being so selfish," they'd say, "let your sister have the last brownie." There had been one time though, when Viola had finally gotten her way, it had been near Christmas time four years ago. The streets where covered in soft, chilly snow and the sky had been a deep purple, filled with twinkling stars. The two sisters sat in the two comfy living room chairs, surrounded by unopened presents and fallen pine needles from the tree in the corner, who's drooping branches were covered in homemade ornaments. Mr. and Mrs. Yorke sat across from their girls on the old leather couch, wrapped in a blanket.

"Can we open one present tonight?" Viola had asked, her wispy dark hair was pushed back off her face with a white band and her cheeks were rosy from the cold.

"Yes, can we?" Ramona asked, her own hair was tied back in a long, tight braid. Mrs. Yorke smiled as she looked at her daughters, and she marveled at how two girls could look so different yet act so similar.

"Could they dear?" she asked, turning to her husband.

"I suppose," he had said, as he scratched his beard. "Only one though."

The girls looked at each other, both grinning from ear to ear.

"How about that one?" their mother suggested, pointing at a long, thin package that lay on the floor by the fireplace.

"Okay," both girls said. Viola slide down off her chair and crawled across the carpeted floor until she was sitting down in front of the present, kneeling as if in prayer. She dragged the present back to her seat and carefully placed it on her lap, it rattled. _I wonder what it is_, she had thought.

"To Ramona and Viola, love Grandma and Grandpa." Viola read out loud, "it's a present for us to share."

"Well open it then," their father said.

"Can I?" Viola asked.

"No. I want to." Ramona said, snatching the gift away from her younger sister, the paper crinkling, but Viola wouldn't let her take it. She grabbed the other end of the box and yanked it back.

"Well I asked first." She said.

"That doesn't matter," Ramona gripped the present tighter, "I'm the oldest, I should."

"But I'm the youngest," Viola whined giving the box a hard tug.

The box began to slip out of Ramona's hands. "That doesn't make any sense."

Viola thought about this for a second, trying to think of something to say, her sister had stumped her. _Yes,_ thought Ramona, _I've got her._ "Neither does the fact that you're a wrinkly old bag!" Viola shouted, she gave the box one last jerk and it flew across the room. Both girls stopped bickering and stared at the present as it flew through the air and landed with a smash in the tree.

"Now look what you did!" Ramona snapped.

"Girls," Mrs. Yorke screamed, "that's enough. Viola just open the present, please."

"But she's the one who threw it at the tree."

"Ramona!" Mrs. Yorke shouted. Viola stuck her tongue out at her sister then marched over to the tree and began to pick at the gift's wrapping paper, which tore off in long smooth strips. Ramona sat there glowering at her sister, her thin arms crossed over her chest. _She's such a brat, _she thought_, poor little baby can't handle not getting her way. She never gets in any trouble._ The present had been a puzzle, one of the nice ones with a hundred laminated pieces. Viola had finished the puzzle in two days, and she had left it out on the island for the rest of the week. Every time Ramona had gone into the kitchen she couldn't help but feel like the eyes of the happy smiling children on the puzzle where watching her, she was glad when her mother finally packed it away.


End file.
